


Canary Cry

by BiJane



Series: Canaryverse [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Coma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-22 17:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiJane/pseuds/BiJane
Summary: Ever since the particle accelerator explosion, Laurel hasn't woken up.





	1. Science

**Author's Note:**

> So, hi! This took long enough.  
> This is a follow-up from Birds of Prey and apologies to everyone that had to wait after that cliffhanger. I was literally one and a half scenes from finishing when my hard drive got corrupted and I lost everything. Started rewriting when I could, but it's harder to basically do the exact same thing a second time. But anyway, here we are!  
> This will just be a quieter three chapters for the characters and world to get a bit more focus. There are a whole host more things I'd like to get to in this AU after though. As ever, daily updates. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

There was chaos in Central City.

Ambulance sirens screamed, and street lamps sparked and failed. Sara crouched by her sister, warding off the suddenly panicked crowd.

“Wake up, Laurel, please wake up.”

Something had gone suddenly, terribly wrong with the particle accelerator; that much was obvious. One moment they’d all been standing around, the next there’d been an explosion of energy.

The accelerator quickly became a disaster zone. Down one corridor there was fire, and all around staff and guests were crying out and running.

Somehow, Laurel had just collapsed. Now wasn’t the time to think about why; making sure there was no obvious physical damage Sara crouched to pick her up.

The ambulances would be packed, and the streets would be chaos to drive through.

Carrying her sister in her arms Sara ran. She could vaguely remember where the hospital was.

At some point she lost sight of Nyssa, Thea and Felicity, but her mind wasn’t on them. At that moment it was impossible to think about anything more than Laurel’s unresponsive face.

She ran over broken glass, and past stumbling people; some were unconscious, some looked baffled, while most just seemed panicked. Off in the distance there was a glimmer of light as the wave that had emanated from the accelerator dissipated.

As she approached the hospital she had to duck through a crowd, pushing her way into A&E. Laurel convulsed in her arms.

“I need help!” Sara shouted. After a moment she shouted again to be heard over the crowd.

It felt like far too long before a doctor approached, waving Sara over to a desk in lieu of a bed. Laurel still twitched. Quite suddenly, she seemed to stop breathing.

“What-” Sara began.

“Don’t ask questions,” the doctor said, “We’re only concerned with symptoms at the moment. We can get to figuring out the cause when people are stable. Now let’s see…”

Laurel lay there, uncomfortably silent, as the doctor took her pulse. She moved one hand to Laurel’s neck after a moment, poking and prodding and feeling something she clearly wasn’t expecting.

Laurel still didn’t breathe.

“Tracheostomy!” the doctor shouted, turning back, “Needed urgently!”

A couple of people nodded, hurrying deeper into the chaos. The doctor turned back to Sara.

“We need to take your…”

“Sister,” Sara supplied

“Sister,” the doctor said, “We could be a while, with everything that’s going on. Do you have religious or otherwise objections to any operations, or-”

“Just do whatever you can,” Sara said.

The doctor nodded. A bed was swiftly supplied, and Laurel hastily wheeled away. It was unnerving how still she was.

Then, somehow, Sara had to bring herself to wait.

She paced; there weren’t any seats available in the waiting room, with how many other people had needed to come to the hospital. She stood surrounded by people milling around, as aimless and helpless as her.

The night outside only deepened. Each time the door opened Sara felt a rush of cold air, and for a brief instant she was tempted to go outside and _breathe_.

It wasn’t an option though, not while she was waiting.

“Excuse me, I brought my sister in, is there any-”

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait. There have been a lot of patients.”

The staff weren’t any help. It took more strength than she thought she had to not force her way further into the ER.

Doctors appeared for scarce seconds at a time, never long enough to answer any questions. They seemed to be growing increasingly exhausted as the night went on, and more and more people arrived.

Ambulance sirens wailed endlessly in the background.

“Beloved?” Suddenly Nyssa was at her side. “I’m glad to find you.”

“I needed to come here,” Sara said. “They’ve got Laurel. I don’t know when…”

“Is she well?” Nyssa said.

“I don’t know,” Sara said. “I don’t- I don’t think she was breathing, but the doctor should have- they’re not telling me anything, I don’t think even they know.”

Out the window she could still see chaos. Now rain was coming down, clattering off the pavement and window, sparkling red and blue. There was the occasional low rumble of thunder.

It was amazing Nyssa had managed to get to her in all this.

“What _happened_?” Sara said. “After the particle accelerator went on, there was that wave and Laurel just… collapsed.”

“It has happened to people all over the city,” Nyssa said. “No one knows why yet though they are working on it, but Laurel was not the only one.”

“I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” Sara said. She closed her eyes, resting it on her forearm against the glass. “Feels like I don’t know anything at the moment.”

“Neither does anyone else,” Nyssa said. “You’re not alone.”

More pacing. The nervous murmur of other people waiting felt like a din.

It had been hours, how much longer would it be? How many others had been affected by the explosion and brought here? How many weren’t waking up?

When would they stop coming, and when could the doctors relax enough to allow visitors?

“This waiting is killing me,” Sara said. “I need to know Laurel’s ok.”

“Your sister is strong,” Nyssa said. “Whatever this is, I doubt it will be enough to inconvenience her.”

“Since when were you an optimist?” Sara said.

“It isn’t optimism,” Nyssa said. “Laurel will be fine.”

Sara faltered.

“I should never have brought her here,” Sara said. “It was my fault, being in Central City, going to the party, and now she’s… It feels worse every second I stand here, every second I don’t know that she’s…”

Nyssa moved closer. Sara felt arms surround her.

“You will not wait alone,” Nyssa said.

* * *

Thea stared at her phone for a few seconds, tapping at the keys. After a moment she muttered something irate under her breath, before pocketing it.

She glanced up, out across the street. It was a little quieter now, at least.

Behind her was STAR Labs, smoke billowing out of some distant crack. After a few seconds a blonde hurried out of it, holding a laptop case over her head to hide from the rain, before ducking into Thea’s small shelter.

“Any word?” Thea said.

“Current main theory seems to be that the explosion breached a dark matter pocket,” Felicity said. “It sent a wave out over the city, with… unpredictable effects.”

“Translation from nerd?” Thea said.

“No one could have predicted it,” Felicity said, “And no one has any idea what it means. They think they’ve shut it down at least.”

“And the phones?” Thea said, tapping her pocket. “I’ve been trying but I can’t get a signal.”

“Probably down to the wave too,” Felicity said. “It excited a lot of the air, would cause interference. It should settle down eventually.”

“How long’s eventually?”

“Anywhere from an hour to a month,” Felicity said. “They barely have a firm definition of what dark matter _is_ , let alone the effects of a wave.”

Thea exhaled, slumping against the wall of the bus shelter.

It was times like this she missed Vertigo. At least that was an efficient distraction from all the panic, despite the downsides.

Breathe in, breathe out. Damn it, it was so much easier to get through the pangs when she could hit something. She slammed her fist into the glass, half-disappointed that it didn’t shatter.

“You should head back to Starling,” Thea said.

“Shouldn’t I stay?” Felicity said. “Feels like the team ought to be together.”

“Someone has to go back,” Thea said. “With Laurel here, it’s not going to be Sara, and with Sara here it’s not Nyssa.”

“Why not you?”

“I know what it’s like to lose a sibling,” Thea said. “No way I’m leaving her alone. If phones are unreliable, someone should tell the people back in Starling what’s happened. Quentin’s going to want to know, mom’ll prefer to have a vague idea of where the hell I am…”

There were a lot of things that needed taking care of back in Starling City.

Even beyond updating their families, there was the matter of their base in the clock-tower. Thea had arranged for renovations while they were in Central, to make it more of a proper headquarters.

She’d expected to be back sooner, but that didn’t seem to be an option any more.

“We’ll probably come back,” Felicity said. “I mean, I doubt Quentin’s going to want to stay in Starling if Laurel’s here and…”

“Don’t know if that’s smart,” Thea said. “I get it, but things don’t seem exactly calm here. I can’t speak for Sara, but I wouldn’t want mom to put herself in danger.”

“I don’t know if they’ll want to stay there,” Felicity said. “My mom always wants to come by if she hears I’m in trouble,” she made a less-than-happy expression. “Unfortunately.”

“You’ll have to ask Sara what she wants her dad to do,” Thea said, “But my mom’s always been practical.”

Felicity shifted on her feet, moving a little further into the shelter as a little rain blew against her.

“They’ve set up services for anyone to get to the edge of the city,” Thea said. “Take one, then keep going.”

“Not sure how comfortable I feel leaving,” Felicity said.

“No one’s comfortable with this,” Thea shrugged. “Someone has to head back, though, and may as well be you. Don’t you have a job, anyway?”

“I can take a few days off,” Felicity said.

“How? Not like you can call in,” Thea said.

Felicity hesitated. She looked back at the accelerator, still visibly shaken.

“I guess,” she said. “Is there anything you want me to pass on?”

Thea hesitated for a few seconds, before shaking her head.

“I’ll save it for when I get back,” Thea said.

* * *

Sunlight was just peering over the horizon by the time Sara was led to Laurel. She had to blink a few times, clearing her eyes, before she could follow.

She was taken to a ward apparently dedicated to victims of the particle accelerator explosion. Only a handful seemed to be comatose, like Laurel, and all of them were in the same corner.

Laurel was breathing, at least.

A tube in her arm, another in her nose, and there was a much larger one at her neck, a plastic pipe leading into an incision concealed by bandages.

It hurt to look at her.

Her sister normally seemed so strong; now here she was unmoving. Her eyes were closed, her body still. There was a rattling sound from the tubes with each breath she took.

“Wh-what…” Sara said.

Her voice trailed off; she stared.

“The particle accelerator explosion had unpredictable effects,” Dr Lamell said. “For your sister, they seem to be centred around her vocal cords and throat; there was swelling we had to address with a partial cordectomy, but that doesn’t guarantee a solution to the problem. There was some unexpected behaviour.”

“What does that _mean_?” Sara said.

The doctor hesitated. After a few seconds she moved to the bedside, and picked a bent scrap of metal from it.

It was small, thin, and snapped as though someone had jabbed it at steel.

“This was one of the scalpels we used to operate,” Dr Lamell said.

“So, what?” Sara said. “My sister’s throat is unbreakable now?”

“You misunderstand,” Dr Lamell said. “This happened when it wasn’t touching anything. We needed to redirect her breathing before we could operate; there’s a harmful… emanation from her vocal cords. We can’t explain what, or why, and believe me it isn’t the strangest we’ve seen lately, but it’s there. I wouldn’t have believed it if not for everything else.”

Sara hesitated.

“Which means?” Sara said.

“Her vocal cords can project some kind of destructive force,” Dr Lamell said, “I’d tell you more if I could, but like I said most of what happened at the particle accelerator is unknown.”

Sara hated not knowing. As if worrying about Laurel wasn’t bad enough, she didn’t even know for certain what the problem was.

“Is there anything you _can_ tell me?” Sara said. “So far it just sounds like mystery after mystery.”

“There are a lot, I’m afraid,” Dr Lamell said. “We can speculate about what caused her coma, and what causes this… force, and what might happen, but it is all just speculation. Just guesswork.”

“You have to know something,” Sara said. “You’ve stabilized her, haven’t you?”

“We think so,” Dr Lamell said.

_Think so_. That wasn’t especially encouraging; the faint hope Sara had felt began to dwindle.

“The more time passes, the slower the swelling becomes,” Dr Lamell said. “We hope the mutation achieves whatever it’s meant to, and will stop being a threat, but we can’t promise that. We’re keeping your sister under observation.”

“When will she wake up?”

“I don’t know why she isn’t already,” Dr Lamell said, snapping slightly. She exhaled; “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day. I can’t answer that without knowing more about what’s causing this. It could be hours, days, months, or it could be…”

Sara was glad that thought went unfinished.

“If you had to guess,” Sara said.

The doctor faltered.

“You have to understand,” Dr Lamell said, “There is a lot going on. The coma, the swelling, the dangerous waves that emanate… We have to trust the exerted field will diminish, or that things will adjust so that she has some degree of control over it, and for that to happen without it adjusting to prove more destructive to the surrounding tissue. We have to hope her vocal cords will reach a new normal or else she’d never be able to leave hospital for fear of choking. And only when both those problems are dealt with is it worth questioning how to wake her up.”

“So…” Sara said. “It’s not good.”

Her voice cracked, then.

Maybe no hope was better than false hope, at least in the long run. Then again, it didn’t feel that way. She still wanted to be by Laurel’s side, still wanted to wait there every second until her eyes opened.

Laurel was strong. She’d find a way. If there was any chance, no matter how slim…

“I’m afraid not,” Dr Lamell said.

She paused, waiting for Sara to look away from the bed.

“She can stay here for as long as you require,” Dr Lamell said. “A friend of yours, a Ms Queen I believe, has promised to pay the hospital costs indefinitely.”

She hadn’t even thought about that-

She was distracted. Unsurprising, but still she instinctively had to flinch. After so many years relying on her own focus and judgement, to forget something so glaring nagged at her.

Well if everything was going to fall apart, what better way for it to start?

“I understand,” Sara said.

She nodded, and dragged a chair to Laurel’s bedside. She sat, and took her sister’s hand, prepared to wait.

If it took months, she’d wait months. If it took years, then so be it.

Ever since coming back home, Laurel had been at the centre of most of her life. She’d wanted to be with her family again on Lian Yu, and when at last she’d returned… Things hadn’t been perfect, but they’d been better than the best she’d hoped for.

When she’d donned a mask and started being a vigilante, Laurel had helped her. Laurel had joined her.

Sara didn’t want to go back to that without her sister.

“Beloved?”

And Nyssa was there. Then again, Nyssa had said she was expected to leave last night, ordered back to Nanda Parbat. The League needed every member it had, at that point in time.

Sara waited a few seconds before replying, wanting to stretch out her moments of denial for as long as she could.

“Nyssa,” Sara said.

“There are amazing things in this world,” Nyssa said. “Miracles happen. Do not lose hope.”

“I’ve seen my share,” Sara said. “They never happen when you need them.”

It was amazing how quickly one could lose hope. In the space of a night the only parts of her life that she treasured would go.

She remembered her time away, and how it felt to just survive. There had been times where she’d been happy, but even the best moments were only good because of all the misery that surrounded them.

She’d been amazed when she’d returned home, at how much more vivid everything felt. She’d been able to lower her defences, able to actually care properly again.

Honestly, she couldn’t say if she wanted to go back to how things had been before.

Sara closed her eyes.

“How long do we have?” Sara said.

Nyssa paused.

“You said you’d be returning last night,” Sara said, “I just want to know how much longer we have together.”

“Do you think I would leave you at a time like this?” Nyssa said.

Sara hesitated. It wasn’t as though she doubted Nyssa cared, it was just that Nyssa could rarely show it openly. Honestly that was one of her favourite traits in her girlfriend; each smile, each kiss meant something.

“How much longer will you stay?” Sara said.

“As long as you need me,” Nyssa said.

“I don’t know how much longer she’ll be like this,” Sara said.

“So be it,” Nyssa said. “I am here.”

Sara wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or guilty; it was hard to feel much positive just then.

“And the League?” Sara said.

“I am loyal to the League,” Nyssa said, “But I am loyal to nothing more so than you. Were my father himself to come here, I would say the same.”

“I doubt that would end well,” Sara said.

“Indeed,” Nyssa said. For a moment there was a haunted look in her eyes; “Let us hope it does not come to that. Even so, I will stay for so long as you need my support.”

“I don’t want to be responsible for anything happening to you,” Sara said. “Doesn’t sound like the League would be happy with you disobeying.”

“Indeed,” Nyssa said. “But those consequences I can bear. I could not bear the knowledge that you were hurting and I was doing nothing.”

Nyssa moved closer, and sat beside Sara. She needed need to say anything more.

Sara held her sister’s hand and looked at still features. Maybe Nyssa could make this easier to get through; she just didn’t want to think about how this might end.

* * *

Very little of STAR Labs still functioned. The explosion had damaged a fair amount of it, and a lot more had been torn apart in desperation to minimise the harm the accelerator had done.

People had not yet gotten around to repairs. There seemed to be a lot of talk as to whether or not to bother; STAR Labs’ reputation had declined dramatically overnight.

Most of the blame went on one man. Nyssa had glimpsed the name on the news; Harrison Wells.

She had a certain interest in that particular name. It didn’t hurt that Wells, despite everything, had opted to spend much of his time at the remains of the particle accelerator, ostensibly to plan the clean-up.

It was easy to sneak in. A few police half-heartedly stood guard outside to prevent reprisal from the community, but inside the damaged accelerator offered plenty of vantage points, and places to hide.

It was the sort of thing she might have done as an exercise, purely for fun. There was more of a purpose to this however; Nyssa slipped inside, and travelled the corridors by memory. She never forgot the layout of a building.

When she saw a solitary figure in a wheelchair she left cover. Quickly surveying her surroundings, she confirmed that no one else was near.

“Dr Wells,” Nyssa said.

He didn’t stiffen to hear a stranger’s voice. Slowly he reached down, wheeling himself around.

“You have me at a disadvantage,” he said, voice level.

She ignored him. Slowly she neared, yet kept more of a distance than she might around anyone else. Warily, she watched him.

“Out of everyone in the city, I imagine you would be the most knowledgeable about the effects of the particle accelerator,” Nyssa said. “I suspect you know full well what the consequences of the explosion are.”

“Indeed?” Wells said. He breathed out, and gave something that wasn’t quite a smile. “And why would that be?”

“Because you did this on purpose,” Nyssa said.

“Why would I do a thing like that?” he said.

He wasn’t protesting innocence by any means; rather he seemed to be playing, stringing her along. Nyssa almost smiled; it was rare to have someone like this who wasn’t afraid of her, but arrogance still allowed for some mistakes.

“Why, I do not know,” Nyssa said. “But the League has long had its eyes on you, and we were aware of your oversights. I did not imagine the consequences would be so… dramatic, but you have been a figure of interest.”

Wells paused; the mention of the League seemed to have made him reconsider.

“Of interest,” he said. “How… flattering. And why would that be?”

“Because you are not Harrison Wells,” Nyssa said.

“That is… an interesting suspicion,” Wells said.

“The League knows there is more to how the world works than the conventional,” Nyssa said. “We are fully able to notice when a man’s drive, personality and knowledge rewrite themselves overnight.”

“Dangerous knowledge,” Wells said. He tapped his fingers on the arm of his wheelchair, and for the moment Nyssa thought she saw a flicker of red. “I should kill you for saying that.”

“You could try,” Nyssa said. “Even if you were to succeed I am Nyssa al Ghul, Heir to the Demon. No matter your ambitions you do not want the enmity of the League.”

He tapped his fingers twice more, then slowly drew his arm inwards. He relaxed, if reluctantly, and looked up to Nyssa.

When he spoke again, his voice was far colder.

“What is it you want?” Wells said. “I doubt you broke in here simply to trade threats.”

“I want to know what it is you’ve unleashed upon this city,” Nyssa said. “Its purpose, and its effects, and the cure.”

Wells’ lips curled.

“This is not something to be cured,” Wells said.

“Then what is it?”

“The dawning of a new age,” Wells said. His not-quite smile widened. “Soon people will come to realise what has come to pass; some among them will have abilities that defy explanation. After that, everything will have changed.”

“There are people in the hospital,” Nyssa said.

“Indeed,” Wells said. “It is a metamorphosis, greater for some than for others. Some will recover in a day, others will need months for all the changes to take effect.”

“Then they will wake?” Nyssa said.

“Some,” Wells said. “Think of a caterpillar in its cocoon. The creature is reduced to no more than liquid, and reassembled from scratch into a new, greater form. Humans are not designed for that; the strain the metamorphosis takes can be… extreme. Not everyone is suited for it.”

“And how can their survival be ensured?” Nyssa said.

“It cannot,” Wells said.

“I did not come here unprepared,” Nyssa said. “You’ve been working towards looking after a specific victim in these labs.”

“Mr Allen is a… special case,” Wells said. “I will not wake him, simply monitor and wait for the day when he does return to us.”

“You are certain he will wake?” Nyssa said. “How?”

“I have my sources,” Wells said. “Nothing I can replicate for one of your Birds of Prey, I’m afraid.”

Immediately, Nyssa drew her bow. Wells didn’t flinch to see the arrow pointed at him.

Sara’s group had taken to calling themselves that just days ago, and there was no way knowledge of the title could have spread.

“Come now, I am well aware of your loyalties,” Wells said. “Nyssa al Ghul. I did not know your face, but the name is familiar, and I can think of no one you would care enough about to come here save for them.”

“And the name?” Nyssa said.

“As I said, I have my sources,” Wells said. “I did not expect any of your Birds to be in the city for the explosion; whatever happens next, I cannot predict.”

Nyssa stood, poised, for long seconds more. Meeting his eyes, she lowered her arrow. Whatever the case, he was someone else’s problem; she didn’t know enough to get involved.

Without a word more she left. She hadn’t gotten what she’d wanted, but it seemed like that was beyond her reach.

* * *

Night fell again; Sara didn’t move from Laurel’s bedside.

Nyssa had needed to leave, mentioning something about needing to update the League and check something out. She’d seemed slightly guilty to leave Sara alone, even if she’d had a purpose.  

Honestly, Sara didn’t mind the chance to stay with her sister.

The hospital wasn’t meant to allow visitors so late, but she’d been in far more secure buildings than this. It wasn’t a challenge.

“I’m sorry, Laurel,” Sara said.

Her voice sounded peculiarly quiet in the emptiness. It didn’t echo, it just seemed to die.

There was the sterile smell of the ward, the pumping sound of a drip in Laurel’s arm, and a rattling through the tube in her throat each time she took a breath.

“You shouldn’t have been here,” Sara said. “You wouldn’t have been, if it wasn’t for me. It feels like everything just got worse for you ever since you started helping me. Or maybe it was just ever since I got back.”

She rested her hand on the back of Laurel’s. it hurt to see her like this.

“I’ve never been a good sister, I know that,” Sara said. “Even before the island. When I was away I promised myself I’d try to be better, and- I could have come back over a year before I did. I never told you that. I got given the chance to go anywhere, and I chose not to see you again.”

She’d never known how to bring that up. When faced with the choice between seeing her family, or meeting up again with a friend she’d made on the island, she’d picked the latter.

“I was… ashamed,” Sara said. “After everything I didn’t think- I wouldn’t have belonged back here, and I’m still not sure I do. If this is what happens…”

This ward had been dedicated to the victims of the accelerator explosion who weren’t waking up. There were a few, but there were also others affected that were at least conscious.

Laurel had gotten the worst of it, it seemed. Maybe it was just because she was so close; effects that might take a while to fully hit the others had struck her all at once.

“The one thing I can’t stop thinking,” Sara said, and faltered. “The one thing I keep coming back to is that maybe I shouldn’t have returned after all. I missed you, you and dad, so, so much, but that’s selfish. I shouldn’t just be here because I want it, not if it’s bad for you.”

Sara slumped forwards.

“Look at me,” she said. “I’m only saying all this because I don’t even know if you can hear me. I don’t know if I _want_ you to be able to hear me. I guess I just needed to say it.”

She exhaled.

“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done that hurt you,” Sara said. “I just wish I could do more about it. I-”

Her voice caught in her throat. It was a moment before she continued.

“This can’t be it,” Sara said. “It just can’t. Five years away, and I come back and there are just months before… It’s too soon, Laurel. It’s just too soon.”

Hindsight made everything so much worse. It seemed as though every decision she’d made had a part in them ending up here.

If she’s chosen to return at her first opportunity, she’d at least have been able to spend more time with her sister. If she hadn’t trained Laurel, Laurel would never have been in Central. Or if she’d stayed away-

“I’d promise to be better, if- when you wake up,” Sara said, “But I’m not sure if I know how. I lie to you, I keep secrets, and I think you’d hate me if I ever told you everything I’ve done. I’d prefer that to this, though; better you live and hate me than stay sleeping.”

She stared at Laurel for a few moments more, half-expecting a twitch, a murmur… Anything would have been good.

Instead the ward stayed as silent as ever. The rattle of the tube, the hiss of the IV pump.

Sara was woken when Nyssa sat beside her; apparently she’d never left the hospital. It took her a moment to regain her focus enough to remember that.

She’d waited, and waited, every second hoping Laurel’s eyes had opened. At some point she must have drifted off. Now, in the light of day, Laurel was as still and unmoving as ever.

* * *

Curtains had been drawn around Laurel’s bed for several minutes; Sara took advantage of the opportunity to rush to the hospital’s café and rush a meal. She was back while the curtains were still drawn.

Nyssa had mentioned searching for a lead as to what had happened, though it hadn’t gone anywhere. She’d had to leave again, though, to keep an envoy of the League apprised of the fact she was staying.

Sara was still grateful for that.

In turn, Thea was at her side. She’d been keeping Sara company most of the time, though as the interference was beginning to clear up she’d had to call her foundation in Starling City.

Phone calls still weren’t reliable though. It was just luck whether a call got through, and if it offered any more than static. Still, it was better than it was.

When the curtains around Laurel’s bed were drawn back, Dr Lamell walked out; she noticed Sara, and approached. Her expression was worryingly grim.

“Miss Lance?” she said.

“What is it?” Sara said. “Is she-”

“She’s fine,” Dr Lamell said, and hesitated. “But there are some worrying signs. We performed a partial cordectomy before to try and reduce the damage, but the tissue has regrown at an alarming rate. We’ve redirected the tracheostomy tube – the thing that lets her breathe – to be further from her vocal cords to prevent any damage, but it’s just a temporary fix.”

“Which means?” Thea prompted.

Sara listened in silence, somewhat perturbed.

“It’s hard to say,” Dr Lamell said. “As you’re probably aware, we don’t really know what we’re dealing with when it comes to the consequences of the particle accelerator explosion. It could be nothing, or- My guess is that if left untreated the waves her vocal cords emit could devastate the soft tissue within her throat.”

The clinical terminology seemed to make everything worse.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Sara said.

“You shouldn’t,” Dr Lamell said. “Without constant treatment it could do irreversible harm. I wish I had better news, but…”

“What can we do?” Sara said. “Tell me there’s something.”

“Keep an eye on her, see how it develops,” Dr Lamell said. “We’ve minimised it for now, but it’s only possible because she’s comatose, and won’t be indefinitely. We can help her for a few days but after that, or if she wakes, you’ll need to make a decision.”

“What decision?”

“Her vocal cords are the problem,” Dr Lamell said. “The… something they emanate is what’s doing most of the damage. The only way we can think to permanently stop the harm would be to remove them.”

“What?” Sara said, sharply.

“I understand it’s drastic,” Dr Lamell said. “A total cordectomy is not something I suggest lightly, but it is the only hope I can see for a long-term solution to your sister’s problem.”

“If you did, wouldn’t that mean she’d…”

“Lose her voice,” Dr Lamell said. “Yes.”

Sara faltered.

“That’s not a decision I can make for her,” Sara said.

“You may have to,” Dr Lamell said. “If she doesn’t wake up… There is a chance that it is her vocal cords’ emissions that are preventing her from attaining consciousness; like much of this it is not certain, but their removal might be what she needs to wake up.”

“And if it’s not?” Sara said.

“As I said, we are uncertain,” Dr Lamell said. “I can only tell you what’s likely, and I can say that it is very unlikely this will improve by itself.”

It wasn’t a choice she wanted to make; people could live without their voices, but it was still a lot to lose, particularly with no guarantee it would even work.

She’d at least want Laurel’s permission. While she could make her best guess as to what her sister might choose, how was she to tell what Laurel might think, and what she wanted Laurel to think?

“I’ll- How long before I have to choose?” Sara said.

“Four days, at best, I’d estimate. Past that there is little we could do to repair the damage they’ll caused,” Dr Lamell said. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything better to say.”

Sara nodded mutely. That left her with four days in which to just hope something would change.

It didn’t seem like enough.

The doctor left, and Thea shifted to sit down beside her again. She was doing a remarkable job at schooling her expression, but Sara had always been good at peering through the cracks in a mask.

Thea was almost as scared as she was.

If things were serious enough that the doctor was proposing that as the best solution…

“Did you say the phone signal was better?” Sara said, suddenly.

“What?” Thea said. “A little.”

“How little?” Sara said. “Could I get a call through?”

“Who do you want to call?” Thea said. “Your dad wants to visit if-”

“Not him,” Sara said. “I doubt he’d like this anyway. But I could get a call through?”

“Probably,” Thea said. “It’s hit and miss, why?”

Sara pulled her phone out, and paused for a few seconds.

“This isn’t working,” Sara said. Her voice was suddenly a lot quieter.

Thea waited a few moments to respond, to see if Sara was going to say anything else.

“They’re doing all they can,” Thea said. “I can pay to fly better doctors in if you’d prefer, there should be less interference in a couple of days.”

“And that’ll be enough?” Sara said. “Even the physicists at STAR Labs are trying to work out what they unleashed, let alone what the consequences are. It’ll be months before they understand what happened; Laurel has _days_ before…”

Sara exhaled.

“What they do isn’t working,” Sara said. “I need to call in someone else.”

“Who?” Thea said. “A doctor? I’m sure-”

“No,” Sara said. “Science doesn’t have a clue what that explosion did, we need something else. Give me a moment.”

Sara stared at her phone screen for a few seconds, mentally going over the number. Then, preparing herself, she dialled. When the first attempt didn’t connect she muttered a curse and dialled again.

That time she heard the tone. She closed her eyes, and waited. Thea watched, not sure.

“Hey, John?” Sara said. “Calling in a favour. Yeah, I know, bad line, I’ll keep this short. How far are you from Central City? Need you, soon.”

There were a few seconds of silence. Sara frowned, making out his voice through the distortion.

“I’ve lost count of how many you owe me, Constantine,” she said. “I think we’re dealing with magic. Whatever it is, it’s nothing natural. Right? Ok, got you. See you.”

A moment later and Sara hung up. It would be a day before he arrived; normally that wouldn’t have seemed like long, but now…

“Who’s that?” Thea said.

“An old friend,” Sara said.


	2. Magic

Sara waited by Laurel’s bedside with Nyssa’s hand in hers. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for; Laurel to wake up from some miracle, Constantine to make his arrival, the doctors to rush in yelling about some emergency…

The worst was how nothing was happening. If there had been a fight, if HIVE was still a problem, she could compartmentalise. Push the pain to one side, use the rest as an outlet.

While she could get into a fight easily, it just wasn’t the same. There was no purpose, no point.

Nothing to do except dwell and linger on faint, fading hope.

“I’m not sure I belong,” Sara said.

Nyssa regarded her, wordless.

“It was always Laurel that made me feel as though I had a home here, again,” Sara said. “She welcomed me, and when I became the Canary… I always knew it would be an adjustment coming back, but even when it went that far Laurel was there. She joined me; I never felt alone, never felt like I was in the wrong place.”

Sara’s gaze never moved from Laurel’s sleeping face. It didn’t feel quite natural to talk to her again when she was with someone else.

Even so, she wanted to think Laurel could hear her. She’d never had the opportunity to really tell her sister how grateful she was.

“Being the Canary was a relic,” Sara said. “I couldn’t leave the island behind, too used to having to fight every day I kept at it even when I was home. Maybe that should have been a sign, but Laurel never seemed to regret me returning. It didn’t seem like a mistake, until…”

Until she’d gotten her sister hurt.

She’d gone over all the incidents before, and maybe it technically wasn’t her fault, it was hard to ignore the fact none of it would have happened if she hadn’t come back.

“There are others,” Nyssa said.

“It’s not the same,” Sara said. “They’re following my example. That’s- I guess that could be good, but Laurel didn’t need that. She asked me, she wanted the chance. I was scared for her but, honestly, I’d never been happier than when my sister could be there in both sides of my life.”

Wistfully, her gaze drifted.

“She matters so much,” Sara said, “But after how I used to treat her before, and how things have been since I got back… I wouldn’t blame her if she hated me.”

“She does not,” Nyssa said.

“How could you know?” Sara said.

“It’s sisterhood,” Nyssa said. “I know.”

There were a few seconds of silence. Nyssa’s voice was far softer than usual.

“I didn’t know you had a…” Sara began, and her voice trailed off.

“It’s complicated,” Nyssa said.

“Yeah,” Sara said. “I get that.”

She waited. Nyssa rarely spoke about herself, at least no more than the basics. That, and Sara wasn’t sure how much she wanted to know about her girlfriend’s family.

Nyssa shared what she wanted to; Sara wouldn’t press.

“Talia,” Nyssa said. “She left when I was young. For all I knew she’d died, years ago. It was only recently I heard from her.”

“What happened?” Sara said, softly.

“She formed her own… group, trained warriors,” Nyssa said. “One of them went to her with the goal of one day defeating me. It inspired her to reach out. She killed the man; he called himself Adrian Chase. It was only weeks ago, but now it seems we might begin talking again, and-”

Nyssa paused. It was strange to see her lost for words.

“The point,” Nyssa said, “My sister chose to abandon me to my father’s mercies, and she chose to not return. If I had not gained that man’s ire, I might never have met her again. Perhaps I should not forgive her, but it is hard to hate one’s sister when she comes to you asking forgiveness. You have been a far better sister to Laurel than mine was to me; she will forgive.”

“Thank you,” Sara said after a moment. “And I’m sorry.”

For a second or so Nyssa stiffened. Then she exhaled, tension leaving her, and she softened, moving nearer to Sara.

* * *

It took two days after the phone call for Constantine to arrive.

It was hard to say what had filled Sara’s time, meanwhile. She was vaguely aware she’d gone out to eat, and every now and again left for the hotel room Thea was paying for, but it was all a blur.

Most days she woke up in the ward, or came in early by more legitimate means. It was hard to focus on anything else.

No one else in the ward was conscious. There was the occasional visitor, but none as regular as Sara. It wasn’t as though she had anything else to do in this city, and it didn’t seem worth it to move to Starling General when the only doctors with even the slightest bit of knowledge about the particle accelerator explosion were here.

As such it immediately caught her attention when there was a brief kerfuffle behind her. She turned to see Constantine almost two steps into the ward, with an orderly urging him to stop smoking.

He left the ward, only to return a few seconds later with the cigarette now discarded. Sara stood; he quickly caught sight of her.

“John,” she said. “Glad you made it.”

“Yeah, just about, city’s a mess,” he said. “How can I help?”

He didn’t need an answer; his gaze was quickly drawn to the hospital bed Sara had been sitting beside.

“I’m… not sure this is my area,” Constantine said.

“Whatever’s affecting her is nothing normal,” Sara said. “With everything I’ve heard, it sounds closer to what you deal with than what the doctors deal with.”

“Is that so?” Constantine said. He paused for a moment, then neared. “You’d better catch me up.”

He noisily pulled a chair over, scraping the legs across the floor, before sitting down. Nyssa watched him warily.

It was a few seconds before Sara began talking, weariness catching up with her as she outlined the past few days.

The explosion, the danger to Laurel, how baffled the doctors were… And then there were the rumours, stories of people with bizarre abilities in Central City arising afterwards, or the inexplicable symptoms of certain victims.

The odd emanations from Laurel’s vocal cords were just one example, she’d heard orderlies and doctors murmuring to one another.

Thea seemed to think it was all fantasy; Sara had seen stranger in her life though. Nyssa too seemed open to the possibility of a more supernatural explanation.

The more it went on, the more Constantine frowned.

“You might be on to something,” he said, slowly. “And if it is magic… there are a few ways to detect a curse, or any kind of influence that would leave your sister in this state. How a curse could be emitted by a particle accelerator I don’t know, but that seems to be the usual these days. You say they don’t know why she won’t wake up?”

“Dr Lamell said they were just guessing,” Sara said.

“The man responsible called it a metamorphosis,” Nyssa said.

“Did he now?” Constantine said.

He paused, contemplative, briefly before reaching into his pockets. Apparently he’d brought a fair bit in with him, expecting to need to improvise a bit of magic.

An orderly stiffened as he moved to pull something out of his pockets, watching carefully. She relaxed, if confused, to see it was just a pen and paper.

“Easy test,” Constantine said. “If there’s no physical reason for her to not wake up, then it’s in her soul, and if it’s a metamorphosis… Well, easy to detect a soul that’s stopped being…”

Perturbed, his voice trailed off.

Instead, he started sketching out a few runes and symbols on the paper, tearing off scraps and putting them on Laurel’s blanket. After half a minute he put them away, and pulled out a small canister that might once have held film, dipping his index finger into it and smearing an orange paste on the sheets.

Sara glanced back, making sure the orderly hadn’t noticed. Some mess might be unfortunate, but if it helped her sister it didn’t matter.

“What are you doing?” Nyssa said, voice low.

“It’s- You know all those old stories about human sacrifice to the gods? Any old death wouldn’t do, they always had to prepare a site, draw the old gods closer to accept the soul.”

“Sara,” Nyssa said, warningly.

“I trust him,” Sara said.

“Right, probably not an encouraging start,” Constantine said. “Imagine that ritual, if it was made of duct tape and junk. It’s not the real thing, just close enough. Gauge their interest in your sister. It’s nothing detailed, but it’s the fastest way to get an idea of the state of someone’s soul.”

He put the canister away, wiping the rest of the paste off on his chair. Reaching forwards, he laid both hands on the edge of the bed. He murmured and his eyes rolled back in his head.

For a second or two the room began to darken. Wary, Nyssa glanced around. Sara stayed tense, one hand instinctively going to a tattoo at the top of her arm. The symbol shone softly.

Constantine blinked, shaking his head suddenly. He surveyed the room, staring for a moment, before pursing his lips and clapping once. At the sharp noise the room brightened again.

“Right,” Constantine said. “That was… odd.”

“Last time I saw those things they didn’t hold back,” Sara said. “I know your spell kept Laurel safe, but I thought they’d have tried to break it.”

“They would have,” Constantine said. “Normally.”

“So this isn’t… normal?” Sara said.

“I don’t know,” he said. “If her soul wasn’t human, if it was transformed or scarred or anything they wouldn’t have bothered showing up. But if it was human we’d have seen more than a couple of shadows.”

“Which means?” Sara said. “Don’t you start saying you don’t know either.”

Constantine faltered.

“Her soul’s recognisable,” he said, after a moment. “Whatever the metamorphosis, it’s not affecting that. She just might be something… more.”

It wasn’t as though he was always prepared; far from it. Even so there was a difference between something vaguely familiar, and something entirely new.

Sara paused.

“John,” she said. “What the hell is happening to my sister?”

“I’ll get back to you,” he said. He shifted, then sat up straighter. “There are more things I can do than just this, got a few other tools in the car. I’ll be back.”

He stood up without a goodbye. The orderly watches him leave, relieved.

Sara watched his departure before her attention returned to Laurel; part of her wanted to see some sign that things had changed, even if not much had been done yet.

She couldn’t keep watching things stay the same.

“How do you know _him_?” Nyssa said.

“The island,” Sara said vaguely. “And a little after that; he’s a dabbler. If this is supernatural, I want his advice.”

“He doesn’t seem trustworthy,” Nyssa said.

“Yeah, he has that effect,” Sara said.

“You think he can help?”

“He owes me,” Sara said. “Several times over, for that matter. I’ve picked up a little of this stuff, but I wouldn’t know where to start.”

She’d learned more how to go up against magic, than how to use it. Back then she just hadn’t wanted to put in the time, but anyone who wanted to survive a day around Constantine needed to be able to protect themselves.

If this was something to fight, she could do it. Laurel’s ailment didn’t seem to be anything like that though.

It all seemed manufactured just to be as unbearable as possible for her. And the doctors would want her feedback in the next day or so too-

She turned again at the sound of footsteps, only to see Thea enter the ward. She approached, and sat down.

“Hey, still coping?” Thea began before being distracted by the runes staining Laurel’s sheets. “Do I want to ask what happened?”

“Trying something different,” Sara said.

“Black magic?”

“More or less,” Sara said.

“I was kidding,” Thea said. She blinked. “Your friend? Have to say, that’s not what I expected.”

She raised her eyebrows when Constantine returned. Instead of immediately going over he neared the orderly and murmured something inaudible, gesturing out to the hallway.

The orderly’s eyes widened, and she immediately hurried outside to deal with some fictional crisis. Constantine turned around, eyes catching on a mop which he quickly lifted up.

“Right then,” he said, at last coming closer. “You might want to get out of here, feign innocence.”

“Why?” Thea said.

“I’m probably about to get kicked out,” Constantine said, shrugging. “If there’s no spiritual metamorphosis then it’s physical, and for the supernatural to directly affect the physical there’s- wait, haven’t met you. John Constantine.”

He offered a hand. Thea raised her eyebrows.

“Thea Queen,” she said.

“Queen?” he said, and glanced at Sara. “Interesting friends.”

“I said the same,” Thea said.

“Fair point,” Constantine said. “Well, anyway, I’m going to try to break a curse I don’t even know for sure is there, and failing that there’s a couple of spells that are meant to help healing, if the cause turns out to be more natural, less super. They’re just not very hospital friendly, hence getting kicked out.”

He pulled his lighter out of his pocket, clicking it.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Sara said hurriedly.

She mouthed a ‘trust me’ when both Thea and Nyssa looked at her. Constantine had gotten better since the stories of a few disastrous rituals he’d told her about, but it still wasn’t particularly wise to be nearby.

She trusted Laurel would stay safe though; it wasn’t as though it could get much worse. John wasn’t that bad.

He barred the door to the ward with a mop as soon as they were outside.

“Magic, huh?” Thea said. “You really believe in that stuff?”

“I’ve seen it,” Sara said.

Thea stared for a few moments, then sighed.

“One of these days I might actually ask you about that island,” Thea said.

She smiled for a moment, before her expression slowly fell. It wasn’t hard to realise what she was thinking about; she’d lost someone on the island too.

All three of them moved out the way as orderlies approached the barred door to the ward. After a few moments they started banging on the door rather loudly.

Meanwhile Sara, Nyssa and Thea sat themselves down just outside, listening to the sound of muffled chanting starting within the ward.

* * *

Eventually the door to the ward was opened again, even if visiting hours were over by then. She hadn’t been able to get near Constantine, but he’d shrugged helplessly across to her.

When night fell Sara again slipped into the hospital, swiftly making it to her sister’s bedside.

She’d expected to see more of a change. Well, she’d expected to see any kind of change; instead Laurel was still there, a tube going into bandages over her throat, and an IV in her arm. Her eyes remained closed.

“Laurel?” Sara said, softly. After a few seconds she repeated herself, louder.

No movement. Still, part of Sara wanted to believe there’d been a change. She sat down and waited.

Maybe it would be tonight. She hoped so at least; she was coming up on the deadline the doctors had mentioned. Whatever mutation had affected Laurel’s vocal cords would have dealt irreversible damage to the surrounding tissue soon.

What was she meant to _do_?

“We should’ve had more time,” Sara said. “We- We could have had a year more. And I’m still not telling you that when you’re awake, it’s just… I was given a choice, I could have come home.”

She didn’t know if she wanted Laurel to wake up during this, but the world never cared about what she wanted. In some twisted way it would feel right if this would be what caused Laurel to wake up.

The first words she’d heard would be Sara’s greatest shame. It would figure.

“I had a choice, on the island,” Sara said. “An organization offered to drop me off wherever I wanted, and I thought about all the possibilities. Someone wanted me to go to Russia, I had a friend from Hong Kong I could track down, I knew I could run into a friend in Liverpool- part of me even thought about staying on the island. It was what I was used to.”

Sometimes she dreamt that she was still there. It was hard to leave purgatory behind.

“I was curious to see what John was getting up to,” Sara said. “I can barely describe what I saw him involved with on the island; it was new and all I wanted was to be able to fight it. Out of all the possibilities, I barely thought about coming back to Starling City. I should have, I know I should have, but…”

Her voice trailed off.

“I don’t think I regret going to Liverpool,” Sara said. “I did good there, but that’s no excuse. I do regret not seeing you sooner, I just don’t know how I could have come back.”

She closed her eyes.

“No, that’s the bad excuse,” Sara said. “It doesn’t matter, I should have been here. I shouldn’t have left you thinking I was dead, I should have been here for more time than we had. And I wish you could hear me, even if it’d mean you hated me. I just want to know you can hear me.”

She paused for a moment, half-hoping to see some twitch. It still disappointed her when there was nothing.

“Maybe I should have told you,” Sara said. “I don’t know whether you’d be ok with it; I don’t know whether _I’m_ ok with it.”

Sometimes she could almost imagine hearing Laurel’s voice.

“I helped save someone,” Sara said. “There was someone John failed, years ago now, her soul ended up with a demon. He’d regretted it, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you could do anything about, not without the perfect situation. When the opportunity presented itself we could help though, we-”

Sara hesitated. Hell was far from a pleasant memory, no matter how well it might have gone. There were fields full of people she’d never be able to help.

It bothered her more now than it had then.

“All I could think about was you,” Sara said. “John had the chance to sort out an old regret, make things better, and it just reminded me of this. Of- how much I’d regret it if I never saw you again. I was packed and making arrangements with ARGUS to return the next morning. I needed to…”

She exhaled.

“I miss you, Laurel,” Sara said.

* * *

The streets were damp and the skies grey. There was a click as Constantine lit a cigarette, keeping under the bus shelter in case rain started again.

“I got your call,” Sara said, approaching.

“It got through?” Constantine said.

“Yeah, interference is clearing up,” Sara said. “And don’t think I can’t see the delaying.”

“Right,” Constantine said. He exhaled a lungful of smoke, before lifting the pack. “Want one?”

“ _John_.”

“Ok, ok,” he said, sighing. He continued flatly. “Long story short, there’s nothing I can do.”

“What?” Sara said. “There’s got to be something-”

“There’s not, believe me,” Constantine said. “Tried every way I know to undo or, hell, even _find_ a curse; nothing. When that failed I did every healing trick I know, but if they’ve not taken effect by now then chances are they won’t do a thing.”

Sara just about stayed on her feet for a few seconds more. She’d been hoping, despite everything; she needed something to hold on to.

Magic had been a last resort, but she’d seen it accomplish astonishing things. True, it worked best up against other magic, but even so…

“Whatever malady your sister has, it’s mundane,” Constantine said. “New, but strictly natural, and an odd beast. Nothing I could heal, not that I can heal much, usually too much bother, but if it’s a- what did she call it? Your friend, Nyssa-something?”

“A metamorphosis,” Sara said.

“Right,” Constantine said. “If that’s what it is, if it’s a transformation, then even if you can get a better healer over here it’s not going to work. Magic’s not going to recognise her as being in need of healing.”

“It’s killing her, John,” Sara said.

“Magic’s fickle,” he said. “If the transformation’s to something in particular, then it’s not a disease; it’s not trying to kill her.”

“So she could survive?” Sara said. “Not everyone died, and if the spells think it’s just trying to… change her, it could mean…

“This is a fair way beyond my wheelhouse,” John said, “And I barely know what I’m talking about when it is supernatural, don’t ask me. Go by the doctors; they might not know the cause, but they can read the effect it’s having.”

“They said her vocal cords have started emanating something harmful,” Sara said. “It’s damaging her throat, even with the swelling reduced. Their best guess is barely a day before it’s irreversible.”

“Ah,” Constantine said. “Knew it was bad, but not…”

“Yeah.”

“I can try again if you want,” Constantine said. “You’ll have to sneak me in, and give me a bit of time to gather the ingredients for other rituals, but there are a couple of remote possibilities.”

Sara slumped down onto one of the seats at the bus stop. Hollowly she stared at the empty road, hands balling into fists.

Maybe she shouldn’t have expected miracles. After the past years though it had become hard not to; after all the amazing things she’d seen how could this end with a whimper?

She didn’t want to spend any more years without her sister in her life.

Sara closed her eyes.

“You know, I was glad when I got your call,” Constantine said. “This is crappy timing, I know, but figured I should say it at some point. Wondered what you’d been doing with yourself.”

Sara exhaled.

“Spending time with family,” Sara said.

“That all?” Constantine said. “Don’t get me wrong, just seemed like you struggled to leave the fun stuff behind.”

Sara hesitated.

“Have you heard about the Canary in Starling City?” Sara said.

“Yeah, that- ah! I knew it,” Constantine said. His gaze drifted back to the hospital, where Laurel lay. “She wasn’t alone, last I heard.”

“Yeah,” Sara said.

“I’m sorry,” Constantine said.

He discarded his cigarette as it burnt away, not replacing it.

“Wish we could catch up under better circumstances,” Constantine said. “Sounds like you’ve a story.”

“Doubt I’m the only one,” Sara said. “Don’t suppose you’ve got anything in Central City I could go fight? Really in the mood to go hit something about now.”

“Afraid not,” Constantine said.

She could deal with guilt when there was something else to focus on. Anything from hope to a foe would count; without that she was drowning.

“You’ve been doing a lot of that, then?” Constantine said.

“Hitting people?” Sara said. She shrugged. “When I had to. The kind of people that threaten Starling tend to need it. You?”

“Usually just trickery,” Constantine said. “Managed to get three demons at each others’ throats, sorted things out rather neatly.”

It was immediately clear he was just trying to distract her, but she took the opportunity gladly. She’d take anything that meant she didn’t have to dwell on Laurel in her hospital bed, not waking up.

Every time she closed her eyes she could see it.

“How’d you manage that?” Sara said.

“Sold my soul,” Constantine said absently. “Three times over; turns out they were desperate to get their grubby little hands on mine they didn’t bother to check to see if anyone else had a claim. Now they’re too busy bickering to come collect.”

Sara snorted despite herself. For a few seconds her gaze drifted.

“Sounds like a risk,” she said.

“Isn’t everything?” he said.

“Yeah,” Sara said.

She paused, maybe about to say something else before she refocused. She reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone and regarding it.

For a long few seconds she was quiet. Slowly, a gentle pattering of rain began to fall from the early morning skies. Both Sara and Constantine withdrew further into the bus shelter.

Constantine had called her to talk in person that morning, to update her on what had happened before his removal from the hospital. She’d hoped for better news.

Still, the call hadn’t been scratchy. The signal had gone through clearly; whatever effect the particle accelerator explosion had on phones seemed to have dissipated.

“Guess I don’t have any excuse now,” Sara said to herself.

“Hm?”

“Sorry, John,” she said. “I have to make a call, think I’ve put it off long enough.” 

She stared at her phone screen for a few seconds more. Constantine nodded, leaning against the wall.

It was still a short while before Sara started selecting a number to call.

It had been hard to just talk about what had happened to Laurel, to begin with. She hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it, hoping it would be over and done with quickly.

The more time passed the less likely that seemed. Talking about it made it seem all the more real though.

And it couldn’t be real, it couldn’t be happening-

With all her hopes fading, she didn’t have any excuse to delay the conversation. Maybe she should have done this sooner, but on top of everything trying to work through the interference would have been agonising.

She tapped her phone and lifted it to her ear.

“Hi dad,” she said.

“Sara, thank god,” Quentin said. “I heard what happened, how- what- Is Laurel…”

“It’s not good,” Sara said, and faltered. “She’s not- She’s not waking up. She’s alive, but not… No one knows what they’re doing.”

There was a long silence. Sara closed her eyes, needing to make a conscious effort to keep the phone held up.

The one thing the doctors had proposed was – what had they called it? – a cordectomy. With the inexplicable emanations from Laurel’s vocal cords, the logical next step was their removal.

They hadn’t done it yet, but Sara needed to make the decision on whether or not to do so that day, before the damage was too severe. She hadn’t wanted to dwell on that, too busy with the possibilities magic offered.

“And- and you?” Quentin said.

“Hanging in there,” Sara said. “Nyssa’s a help. And Thea.”

“I’m on my way,” Quentin said. “If I take a day off, I can make it to-”

“No, dad,” Sara said. “You don’t have to come here.”

“Why not?” Quentin said. “My daughter’s in-”

_Because I might have to do something you wouldn’t like_.

“It’s still a bit chaotic here,” Sara said. “Give it a couple of days. If we’re lucky she might be awake by then, they’re talking about an operation…”

Her voice trailed off. Though there was the possibility the cordectomy would be enough for Laurel to wake up, the cost would be her voice.

If that was the price that had to be paid for her sister’s eyes to open then so be it. Needing to make the choice didn’t sit well with Sara, however. It shouldn’t have been up to her.

“Whatever it takes,” Quentin said. “Promise me you’ll make them try- Just, anything to bring Laurel back home.”

“I will,” Sara said.

She’d have to pick up sign language. Then again, she was good with languages, that wouldn’t be too hard. She could help Laurel.

She’d be able to talk with her sister, if not normally.

“I will,” Sara said again, exhaling.

* * *

Laurel had been taken to the operating room a day ago. She still lay in the same bed, further padding around her throat, and still no sign of a change.

Nyssa and Thea both sat by the bedside.

Sara hadn’t said much, and neither of them had wanted to push. All they’d heard was that the latest operation was the last real hope of Laurel’s situation changing.

They couldn’t have guessed that from looking at her. Beyond the changed bandages, nothing seemed any different.

“Know where Sara is?” Thea said.

“On her way,” Nyssa said. “I don’t know where exactly.”

“Thought you’d have been keeping close to her,” Thea said.

“She wanted time alone,” Nyssa said. “I understood that.”

Nyssa hesitated, her gaze drifting around the otherwise empty ward.

There were still other patients, others left comatose by the explosion. Laurel seemed to be in the worst condition, with the waves her vocal cords had emitted.

“I am not used to comforting people,” Nyssa said. “It’s not something I am particularly good at. It seemed a good choice at the time.”

“Yeah,” Thea said. “Everyone kinda sucks at it. We just do our best.”

She looked at Thea for a few seconds, apparently as unused to such support.

“I am surprised Sara isn’t here,” Nyssa said. “She’s usually the first here. Particularly today…”

“I think she heard Laurel hadn’t woken up,” Thea said. “Maybe she wanted to get Constantine to try something else. Can’t blame her.”

“Maybe,” Nyssa said, her voice cooler.

Thea turned. “You don’t like him?”

“No.”

“Jealous?” Thea said.

Nyssa raised her eyebrows.

“Just checking,” Thea said. “He’s not bad. Don’t judge me.”

“I trust Sara,” Nyssa said. “Him, on the other hand… I’ve seen people like him; con artists and tricksters, and there is nothing so dangerous as false hope.”

“The magic?” Thea said.

“I accept that,” Nyssa said, and faltered briefly. “I have seen… some such miracles, but it is never so simple. There are costs that should never be paid. If he persists in peddling false hope, beliefs that people have died for, and if he’s believed, I do not like what might happen.”

Thea hesitated. She shifted, slightly uncomfortably turning to regard Nyssa.

“You don’t think Laurel’s going to get better,” Thea said.

“No,” Nyssa said bluntly. “Not now. Does that surprise you?”

“I thought you’d want to be more optimistic,” Thea said. “She’s always been strong.”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Nyssa said. “I want her to recover, but I’ve seen much death, and much injury. Strength means little in a situation like this. The more days she sleeps, the less likely it is that she will wake, and it does not do to live reliant on faint chances. Everything has been tried, and everything has failed.”

“No offense, but I’m not sure I want to think like you,” Thea said.

Nyssa nodded her head, slightly.

Still, her expression couldn’t help but seem slightly haunted. She turned as an orderly walked into the ward, only to look back forwards, disappointed that it was a stranger.

She reached for her phone after a few minutes more and dialled. It rang futilely.

“Didn’t you say the interference was gone?” Nyssa said.

“Pretty much,” Thea said.

“Then where is Sara?” Nyssa said.

Worried, she dialled again. A useless ringing came back over the speaker, waiting to connected. With everything that was happening-

“Call me if she comes here,” Nyssa said, standing.

“Where are you going?” Thea said.

“There are a few places I should check,” Nyssa said.

* * *

Their hotel room was unsurprisingly unoccupied. There were a number of other, unnerving options Nyssa didn’t want to consider, but if Sara was in a place that she could find…

Most of Central City was clean and bright; Nyssa went for the other parts of the city, the hidden corners. Everywhere seemed to have a few cheap hotels, dingy buildings for the people just passing through.

It would have to be near the hospital, of course, and if she was to guess-

She walked past a car park with an odd, bright yellow taxi parked within. She ignored reception, walking into the hallways and calling Sara’s phone again.

Behind a door she heard a muted ringing. Approaching, she rapped twice.

There was a peephole in the door; she looked into it, slightly impatient. She didn’t know which of them would be looking at her.

Constantine opened the door, expression a little guilty. Sara stood by the far wall, dark circles under her eyes.

“Hey, Nyssa,” Sara said tiredly. “I was- I’d have called back in a bit. I just needed to get something done first.”

“Indeed?” Nyssa said.

She turned towards Constantine. Warily, he stepped back to let her in and shut the door behind her.

“Wasn’t my idea,” he said.

“There’s a way to help Laurel,” Sara said. “No matter what the problem is. I don’t know how to do it offhand, but once I do…”

“I expect it’s not that simple if you wanted to do it in private,” Nyssa said.

Sara faltered.

“It’s Laurel,” she said after a moment. “I’d do anything Nyssa, you know that. If it was to save her…”

“What’s the price?” Nyssa said.

Sara hesitated again. Constantine interrupted.

“She wants to sell her soul,” he said, voice exhausted.

There was a moment of quiet. Nyssa paused, digesting, while Sara stood up as firmly as ever.

“If that means what I think it does,” Nyssa said, facing Sara. “The cost is…”

“Damnation,” Constantine said.

“After a life with Laurel in it,” Sara said.

“You’d do that?” Nyssa said.

“I’ve already spent five years in hell,” Sara said. “I can take an eternity more, if Laurel needs it.”

Nyssa met Sara’s eyes. With all the fearful certainty in Sara’s eyes, Nyssa seemed far less sure of her ground.

“I’m not going to stand here and say I’m overjoyed at the idea,” Sara said, “But what’s the alternative? I- I know Laurel might not be happy with it, but at least she’ll have the chance to judge me for it. It’ll heal everything. The way things are going, if I don’t do this there’ll never…”

Nyssa closed her eyes, steeling herself. When she reopened them she couldn’t quite look at Sara.

“You’d have done that to her?” Nyssa said to Constantine. He took a step back, raising his hands.

“Do I look like a guy that makes healthy life choices to you?” he said. “She asked. It’s… not good stuff, but if it’s what she wants-”

“It’s not his fault Nyssa,” Sara said. “It’s all I’ve got, and it’s the one thing that I _know_ will work. No question, Laurel could be awake, talking and healthy within the hour if I can do this. If I just gave that up, what kind of sister would I be?”

“You would do that?” Nyssa said.

“Without question,” Sara said, only a flicker of fear in her eyes.

Nyssa paused, not breaking off eye contact. It felt like the better part of an hour before she at last looked down.

Sara took half a step closer before slowing, unsure. It was a short while longer before Nyssa looked up.

“I’m sorry,” Sara said. “You don’t have to be here for it, if you don’t want-”

“There’s another way,” Nyssa said.

“Nyssa, I’ve tried-”

“You haven’t,” Nyssa said. She paused. “I can’t- You shouldn’t-” She hesitated, wetting her throat. It was rare to see her so wary. “There are waters in Nanda Parbat. They are one of its most closely guarded treasures, but I am sure I have rank enough to bring some back here. I’ve seen them heal my father, turning wounds to flesh in seconds, and banishing illness. In stories they’ve been able to bring back the dead. If Laurel were exposed, I am certain they could help her too.”

Nyssa spoke slowly, almost reluctantly, as if each word had to be pulled from her lips. All throughout her speech she stared at the wall behind Sara, not quite meeting her eyes.

“What?” Sara said, softly.

“There is a cost,” Nyssa said. “Even beyond what my father would most likely ask in exchange, I have seen the effect the water has. I have sworn to never touch so much as a drop. A little of the soul is lost with each exposure; I saw my sister turn cold, and I know who my father is now, and… I would not suggest it if this was not your alternative. Whatever the price, it is better than the one you would otherwise face.”

She just about forced herself to meet Sara’s gaze.

“Wait,” said Constantine, “Are you talking about a Lazarus pit? They’re ridiculously rare, there’s no way you’d have access unless-”

He paused. After a moment he took a step back.

“Ok,” he said, “You’re _that_ Nyssa, right, carry on.”

Nyssa’s eyes never moved from Sara.

“You’ve had a way to help the whole time?” Sara said, voice low.

“I would never have thought the price worth it,” Nyssa said. “Believe me. But one use, and potentially a less serious ailment than some I have seen it cure… It is far better than what you are proposing. If we could ask Laurel, I am sure she’d rather face that than see you damn yourself.”

Sara swallowed.

She hadn’t wanted hell; no one would, after what she’d seen. Honestly it scared her, it just didn’t scare her any more than the prospect of losing Laurel again.

It wasn’t selfish to decide otherwise, was it? She wasn’t optimistic enough to believe in a miracle cure, and Nyssa’s reticence spoke for itself.

Though she couldn’t quite regard Nyssa with the same fondness as usual just then, not if Nyssa had always known a way to-

“What’s the cost?” Sara said.

“Aggression,” Nyssa said. “Rage that I have seen be controlled, and may be more minor in your sister. And- The other I could not say, but my father does not share the waters of the pit easily. He might ask something, but whatever it is would be less than what you are prepared to give up.”

“I… anything for Laurel,” Sara said.

Slowly Nyssa breathed out, relieved.

“Do you promise you will wait for me to return with the water?” Nyssa said.

“Do you promise it’ll work?” Sara said.

“It will,” Nyssa said, reluctantly. Advocating the pit still left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Then I will too,” Sara said. “I… Thank you.”


	3. Lazarus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of this entry. I do have a few stories in mind to continue this AU but I can't make any promises as to when I'll get to any of them.   
> This isn't my favourite of the fics I've written for the Canaryverse, losing everything then needing to rewrite it is a spectacular way to kill off passion, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

Sara sat by Laurel’s bedside still. It was getting harder to say how long it had been since she’d last slept.

It was night again, and she felt more alone than she had since the island. Laurel was still asleep, and Nyssa had left the city in the day.

She’d promised to be as quick as she could. The first flight to Nanda Parbat, no more than a cursory meeting with her father, and the first flight back with a vial of water.

The longer Sara waited the more nervous she became. There was no humanly possible way that Nyssa could have gone there and back yet, but she had to worry.

It sounded as though her father wouldn’t be happy with the extra days Nyssa had stayed in Central City, for her. She hoped that wouldn’t have consequences, and Nyssa hadn’t expressed any wariness, but nothing was calming her mind.

Not now.

The last and only hope the doctors had provided had failed. It had been a last, desperate hope; removal of the vocal cords that were killing her sister. Without that, Nyssa’s plan was the best hope.

“I’m sorry,” Sara said, softly. “I keep- It feels like I keep making decisions for you, and I hate it. The consequences, the price… They’re all things you pay, rather than me.”

It was so much easier to say the things she wanted to say like this, and she didn’t know what that meant. Maybe Laurel could hear her, maybe she couldn’t, but at least she was at last saying this.

It didn’t get any easier to look at her now, though. The pump continued to hiss, the drip continuing to keep her fed, and the tube into her throat continuing to rattle.

“First it was the cordectomy, taking your voice,” Sara said. “I- I think that’s what you’d want, with the risk. And now there’s the pit, and what it’s meant to do. Nyssa said it takes from your soul, it might make you colder… Maybe not much, not if it’s just this once, but…”

Sara closed her eyes.

“The only other option’s selling my soul,” Sara said. “And I think you’d rather the small risk than the certainty of… But maybe that’s selfish. I promised myself I’d do whatever it took to save you, but when I’m paying the price I change my mind. I don’t know.”

It scared her, how hard it was to be sure of her own mind. She knew what she wanted, she knew what her justifications were, but she kept going over them, kept thinking twice.

She’d never been good at this; dwelling on decisions had never come easily to her. Before the island she’d never considered consequences, and after the Gambit there hadn’t been time to consider anything.

Things happened so quickly. Too quickly.

“Selling my soul scares me,” Sara said. “If I’m honest. But I want to think I decided against it because you wouldn’t want it, and because we have a better way. The consequences- They can’t be so serious at least, but you’re got getting a say, and you should.”

She stared, still vainly hoping for her sister’s eyes to open.

“I want to believe I chose the best path, rather than just the one I wanted,” Sara said. “I want to believe this is best for both of us, rather than just best for me. And that scares me too. I know I can be selfish, I remember how often I put myself above you, my comfort over yours, and I want to think I’ve changed, sometimes I can almost believe it, but then something like this happens and…”

She fell silent. The pump continued to hiss in the background with a steady, regular beat.

“First it was the cordectomy,” Sara said. “The risk was reduced, at the cost of your voice. Now it’s this pit, the waters, Nyssa promises it’ll heal you but there’s a cost too, and- I’ve never seen her so wary as when she talked about the pit. And I’m going to subject _you_ to that.”

This should have felt like a triumph, but Sara couldn’t bring herself to smile. She’d wanted her sister to recover for so long; apparently the Lazarus pit would even heal any of the scars of the operation.

She didn’t want to guess at the effect it’d have on the so-called metamorphosis, but that wasn’t her biggest concern.

Nyssa wasn’t disturbed by much. The prospect of facing something that unnerved her didn’t exactly thrill Sara, and to then expose Laurel to it…

“I hope you can forgive me,” Sara said.

What else could she do?

* * *

It was raining again. The skies had darkened remarkably quickly the past few days, as though the storm on the day of the explosion had never fully cleared.

Sara paced, checking the clock on her phone every few seconds. If all had gone according to plan Nyssa would be on the plane back.

She could only hope.

“Hey.”

Constantine’s voice sounded behind her. She turned to see him, trench-coat striking a somewhat impressive silhouette under a streetlamp.

“John,” she said, relieved. “Do I want to ask where you’ve been?”

“Packing,” he said. “Doesn’t seem like there’s anything more for me to do here. Wasn’t sure whether I’d run into you.”

“Just going to vanish without a goodbye?” Sara said.

“You did,” Constantine said.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Sara said. “I didn’t want to risk changing my mind. Needed to come home.”

“I get it,” Constantine said. “Kinda grateful honestly, I’m not all that good at goodbyes.”

“Same here,” Sara said. “Hoped we’d get one this time though. I’m glad you came John.”

“Glad you called,” Constantine said. “Less glad I couldn’t be much help.”

“You can make it up to me next time,” Sara said.

“Next time?”

“I’ve lost count of how many you owe me,” Sara said. “This is one settled, I remember four more in just that business with Buer.”

Constantine paused, cocking his head. He shrugged.

“Touché,” he said. “Guess this makes this goodbye a bit moot.”

“Makes up for the lack of one before,” Sara said. “So when are you off?”

“Five minutes, give or take,” Constantine said. “It didn’t feel right to hang around. Would’ve liked to meet that Laurel you talked so much about mind you, but I figure you deserve a bit of time alone.”

“Sensitivity, huh?” Sara said. “But… yeah, I think it’ll take time for Laurel to get back on her feet. I’d like to focus on her for a bit. God knows I haven’t been doing enough of that.”

“Well, good luck,” Constantine said. “In that, and your vigilante side-gig. I’ll keep an eye on the news.”

“And feel free to swing by if you’re ever near Starling,” Sara said.

“Will do,” Constantine said. “So long Sara.”

“Goodbye John.”

* * *

It felt like so much more than a week had passed. Honestly, it felt like years.

Everything before the particle accelerator explosion had become a blur, a grey haze so indistinct it didn’t seem real, not compared to what came after.

The pain of seeing Laurel lying there, the memory of her sister falling, all that was painfully sharp. All that was unforgettable, playing on a loop inside Sara’s head.

She sat by her sister’s bedside, not looking away. It seemed like she’d spent too much time in that very position.

Despite how long she’d waited, she was still caught off-guard when Nyssa returned. She walked into the ward in non-descript clothes, eyes ever watchful. Quickly she crossed the distance to sit beside Sara.

“Do you have it?” Sara said.

Nyssa paused. Then, slowly, she reached into an inner pocket of her jacket and withdrew a small vial, three-quarters full of clear water and capped with an ornate bronze head. She exposed it for just a moment, before concealing it back in her pocket.

“Nyssa, I need it,” Sara said. “I’ve waited long enough for Laurel to get better.”

“I know,” Nyssa said. “But she is in no danger now, with it so close, if you have made up your mind. I feel we need to clear the air first.”

Sara hesitated, breathing in. It was a few seconds before she shifted more fully to face Nyssa.

“Yeah,” she said, after a moment. “Yeah- This has- I haven’t been able to think of much else. I won’t apologise for that.”

“Nor would I want you to,” Nyssa said. She smiled only briefly before her expression sobered. “I should apologise though. I knew this was an option since your sister first fell. I said nothing, and I’m still not certain I’ve done the right thing in doing so.”

“I was trying not to think about that,” Sara said. “The water’s… What you said, it didn’t sound any worse than this.”

“I’ve witnessed the small handful allowed to use it,” Nyssa said. “My father. My sister. Damien Darhk.”

Sara faltered. She knew one of those names, at least.

“These waters gave my father and Darhk their long lives,” Nyssa said. “I do not know what they used to be like, but I remember my sister. She had only used the pit for a handful of years when I first knew her, and then only occasionally, but she used it increasingly. The potency of the waters begins to wear off with time.”

Talia. Sara couldn’t help her gaze drifting back to Laurel.

“She changed,” Nyssa said. “She was not warm, that would be the wrong word for any of the League, but she was my friend, and she grew to be a woman who would leave me behind without a goodbye. I saw her become colder, and the water gradually erode her soul.”

“How long did it take?” Sara said.

“Years, to say nothing of the time before I knew her,” Nyssa said. “And she used it to heal often. What happens to your sister will no doubt be less serious, but I would never take even a first step down that path.”

Nothing could ever be easy. Still, it was hard to match the tone of Nyssa’s voice with what just looked like a vial of water.

“Does it bother you that I’m considering it?” Sara said.

“Does it bother you that I kept it from you?” Nyssa echoed.

“A little,” Sara said. “Not going to say I understand, but not going to pretend it’s simple either. That wasn’t much of an answer.”

“I expect our responses are similar,” Nyssa said. “It is… uncomfortable, but I am not you and you are not me.”

When it came down to it, she trusted Nyssa. After everything, Nyssa had earned that.

That should have made things simpler. Instead, Sara couldn’t bring herself to ignore Nyssa’s wariness no matter how much she wanted to.

She’d promised to do whatever it took to help Laurel. This still counted, in her mind, but she hesitated regardless. If Nyssa was cautious she wanted to listen to that.

But in turn, if this could help Laurel she needed to consider it. It wasn’t as though she wanted to, or even could, choose between them.

“Say you’ll forgive me,” Sara said after a moment.

“Without question,” Nyssa said.

She didn’t remove the vial.

“There’s something else,” Nyssa said.

“The price,” Sara said, exhaling.

“Ra’s al Ghul would not give out some of the waters of the pit for no cost,” Nyssa said.

“What does he want?” Sara said.

It scared her a little; at that moment there wasn’t much she wouldn’t have done.

Nyssa paused.

“There are three options,” she said. “One, we return the vial unopened.”

“The others?” Sara said.

Nyssa hesitated again.

“I suspected Harrison Wells,” she said, seemingly out of nowhere. “I did not know what he was planning, but I was quite certain he had some endgame. If I had known what he would do I would have told you, but even so I knew there was a risk. The League has been wary of Harrison Wells for some time.”

“Why does that matter?” Sara said.

“It is only right I be open,” Nyssa said.

“Still,” Sara said. “You’re always telling me I can’t know the future. We face risk most days, an exploding particle accelerator was pretty low on the list.”

“Some might see it differently.”

“I doubt it’d have changed what we did,” Sara said. “A guy’s into something shady, it’s not a big deal. No one could have seen this. Nyssa, it’s not like you to…”

“It isn’t for me,” Nyssa said. “You deserve all the facts.”

“Why?” Sara said.

“My father wishes you to visit,” Nyssa said. “He would like to meet you, given… what you mean to me, and what you have done for him. It may be gratitude, it may not.”

“That’s the cost?” Sara said. “He wants me to pay a visit to Nanda Parbat?”

“I believe he is sincere,” Nyssa said, and hesitated. “There is another option.”

“Which is?”

“I could return and lie,” Nyssa said. “Claim the vial was stolen from me. I doubt he would believe I’d let that happen, but it is an insult to question a confession. I- would not lie for just anyone, but it allows you to use the water but to not owe him anything.”

There was something strange in Nyssa’s tone. Sara shifted, regarding her.

“And the catch?” Sara said. “It doesn’t sound like the League would let that slide.”

“I’d have allowed one of the League’s treasures to be stolen,” Nyssa said. “Something would be forfeit. Perhaps my life. If you would rather spend time uninterrupted with your sister-”

“Nyssa, no,” Sara said immediately.

“Beloved?”

“Please, don’t think that’d ever be what I wanted,” Sara said. “That’s not even an option.”

“I… thought it wise you be aware of all choices,” Nyssa said.

“All two,” Sara said.

It was a moment before Nyssa nodded. Not for the first time, Sara felt a flare of rather distinct discomfort at how the League apparently raised its members.

A League she might have to visit-

The price didn’t even compare to losing Laurel. Besides, it wasn’t as though she hadn’t been considering it anyway.

“I’ll pay,” Sara said.

“Sara?”

“Looks like we’re heading to Nanda Parbat,” Sara said. “Eventually at least. If your dad’s lived centuries, he’s got to be patient by now. I’m still spending time with my sister.”

“He is patient,” Nyssa said. “But it is not inexhaustible.”

“Then we can spend time in Starling City first,” Sara said. She met Nyssa’s eyes. “We, assuming you can stay.”

There was a moment of silence. Nyssa didn’t seem quite sure of how to respond.

“If you are willing,” Nyssa said. She smiled, then. “I’d like nothing more, Ta-er al-Sahfer.”

“Then it’s a plan,” Sara said. “You spend a bit more time in my home, then I go to yours. Have been wanting to visit you anyway, it’s not much of a price.”

She’d been prepared for a lot worse. For an organisation called the League of Assassins, simply being asked for a meeting had to count as a victory.

True she had to be wary, but there was no need for dwelling on that. At long last it seemed like she had the opportunity to just relax and be happy.

Nyssa withdrew the vial again, holding it tentatively between two fingers. She seemed to dislike even feeling the coolness of the water through the glass.

“Are you certain this is what you want?” Nyssa said.

“I have to be,” Sara said.

Too late to doubt. She could ask for Laurel’s forgiveness if necessary, but she needed Laurel back. Sara reached out and took the vial.

She held it closer, peering curiously at it. Strange, how ordinary it looked. It took her a short time to work out how to loosen the stylized cap and remove it.

Taking a cue from Nyssa, she made extra sure that she only held the top of the cap, avoiding any part water might have reached.

“So, how does this work?” Sara said.

“The harm was focused at her throat,” Nyssa said. “I suggest letting her drink it. It will heal the immediate damage, and spread through her system if there is anything else to be done.”

“How long will it take?” Sara said. “Hours, another day?”

“Seconds.”

Sara paused. She glanced down at the vial with a little more trepidation.

Well, at least she’d know for certain whether this worked. No more doubt. Exhaling, she lowered her hand, making sure to keep the vial upright.

“Thank you,” she said, softly.

“I’ll always do what I can to help you,” Nyssa said. “Your enemies are my enemies; your wishes are my wishes, beloved.”

“Still,” Sara said. She hesitated. “I love you. I haven’t said that enough the last few days.”

“I hear it even when you don’t,” Nyssa said.

Sara smiled.

Worrying about her sister had been hard; without Nyssa and Thea she wasn’t sure how well she’d have coped. It had nearly gone badly as it was.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and breathed out again. Carefully she lifted the vial, leaning closer.

 _I hope you can forgive me_.

She touched the rim of the vial to Laurel’s lips and tipped it, watching the water trickle down her throat.

Nyssa was already close, busying herself with things Sara had been too distracted to consider; she pulled a drip from Laurel’s arm, and unbandaged her throat to remove the tube. Sara glimpsed a few horrific stitches before the skin seemed to seal itself back together.

Otherwise, her eyes and attention didn’t wander from Laurel’s face.

Far too slowly, Laurel’s eyes drifted open. It was several seconds before Sara could believe what she saw.  

Laurel shifted, wetting her lips. She opened her mouth to talk, then frowned, and shifted again. When she tried next, her voice was scratchy.

“Sara?” Laurel said.

All at once the past few days caught up with her. Sara felt tiredness rush through her, her eyelids threatening to collapse; she quickly lifted an arm, supporting herself on the metal bar at the edge of the hospital bed.

“What- Why am I…” Laurel’s voice trailed off.

“It’s… it’s a long story,” Sara said. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Laurel said. She moved again. “Hungry. Thirsty. How long-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sara said. “Is that all? Do you feel ok?”

“I… guess,” Laurel said.

Her eyes moved past Sara for a moment, noting Nyssa. Her eyes looked around, though her head stayed stationary, taking in the sight of the ward.

She frowned at the sight, but didn’t say anything immediately. It didn’t seem like she wanted to know the answer just then.

“Good,” Sara said, relieved. “You’re sure you feel ok?”

“Yeah,” Laurel said. “Sara, why-”

Sara hugged her, half-collapsing as she did so.

* * *

It was odd to be back in Starling City. The streets were darker, grimier, and yet familiar. Each step was a comfort, despite the late hour.

Things were back to normal. She was back on her usual ground.

There wasn’t much for her to be afraid of in any case; they weren’t going to run into a street criminal that was a match for Sara. That, and Sara wasn’t sure much could scare her just then.

Losing Laurel had been her biggest fear for so long.

Thea had returned ahead of them, to smooth things out. She’d been overjoyed to see Laurel, but had rather quickly left the room afterwards. The return of a sibling; it had to bring back less pleasant memories.

Her reaction said something for how Thea had changed though, since gaining a new focus. Instead of anger, instead of rage at the unfairness of the world, she’d been practical.

Perhaps living vicariously, she’d made things easier for Sara and Laurel. She’d arranged the journey back, just to begin with. There was more in Starling City for her to do though; now she didn’t have to coordinate by phone she could conclude some of the work she’d arranged.

The clocktower. Before they’d all set off for Central City, Sara could remember Thea arranging for a better set-up ‘office’ to be built there in their absence. It seemed like so long ago now.

Though they’d driven most of the way back, Laurel had insisted on walking. She reasoned that if she’d just been lying in bed for over a week, she ought to stretch her legs. Sara wasn’t about to deny her anything.

“Do you mind if we just walk for a bit first?” Laurel said.

Her voice was still scratchy; a persistent sore throat was the one thing the waters hadn’t been able to cure. Given they’d apparently reformed Laurel’s vocal cords, it was a small complaint.

Laurel gulped from a bottle of water. She’d gone through two so far on just the journey back, wetting her throat each time she spoke.

“We’ll head home as soon or as late as you like,” Sara said. “Whenever you feel up to it.”

“Thanks,” Laurel said. “It’s just- dad, I know how scared he’d have been. I do want to see him, I just need a little time before I’m up for that.”

“I get it,” Sara said.

Laurel sipped her water again.

Sara had told her everything on the journey back; the explosion, the countless people affected somehow, in addition to all the symptoms and attempted cures. Eventually she’d even explained what had woken Laurel up, in the end.

Laurel had gone silent for a bit, though whether that was at Sara’s impending departure or the potential side-effects she couldn’t say.

“Other than that, you still ok?” Sara said.

“I’ll let you know if I feel like passing out,” Laurel said. “You don’t have to keep asking.”

“Just glad to see you up and about,” Sara said. “And everything’s…”

“I’m fine,” Laurel said. “Tired, a few aches, but I don’t feel like falling into a coma, and the only – what did Nyssa call it? – bloodlust is from you constantly asking if I’m alright.”

Sara snorted, and slowed for a few seconds. Laurel paused too, waiting for her to start walking again.

“It’s good to have you back Laurel,” Sara said softly.

They walked almost aimlessly. Laurel seemed to be getting used to being on her feet again, while Sara just took in the city.

Slowly their wandering brought them to much more familiar streets. They passed underneath the clocktower, pausing to look up.

The face was lit, a gentle shine giving it more life than it had before. Sara glanced back, and Laurel beamed, moving past her to walk inside. They ascended a tight staircase, and knocked on a locked door.

Nothing seemed particularly out of place, but the sound of the door was strange to Sara’s ears. It was more reinforced than a normal door ought to be; Thea hadn’t been kidding when she’d mentioned getting work done.

Thea, Felicity and Nyssa were waiting inside when the door opened.  Their heads turning from side to side, Laurel and Sara walked in.

The clock-face still made up the majority of one wall, but at last it wasn’t the main source of light. Illuminated bars were set into the walls, and along the wall at their backs were rows of drawers and shelves currently only half-filled with uniforms and weapons.

One side of the room had been swept clear, with borders marked in to be used for sparring when the padded mat was fitted. Small things like that were down to them; there wasn’t a surreptitious way to ask for such things in what was supposed to be an office.

Still, as a base for the Birds of Prey it was all but complete. Weapons and disguises had been brought in, and along one wall was a computer alongside a large desk already cluttered with various bits of electronic equipment. Felicity had attached most to the computer.

Then under her desk were the practicalities; a fridge, a radio, and more storage space.

A small corner near the sparring area had been left for more conventional work-out machines. Sara’s attention was first drawn to the fact they now had multiple working sockets in the base, though.

The last touch was a sheet of shaded glass over the clock-face, making it harder to peer through.

Sara felt her jaw drop. She quickly adjusted her expression, but was gratified to see Laurel taking it all in with the same look on her face. It was several seconds more before Laurel schooled her face, frowning as she did and stretching her jaw. She rubbed her eyes, weary.

“This place has changed,” Laurel said.

“Had to give you something to welcome you back,” Thea said.

The Birds of Prey had begun to feel like a family themselves. It was hard to put into words how relaxed Sara felt being able to come back here, especially compared to sitting in the hospital.

A glance at Laurel confirmed she was thinking the same thing. For all the changes to the interior of the clock-tower, it was still recognisable. The scaffolding and the loose plastic sheets had been cleared away, but that didn’t change much. There was even a small basket for the stray cat that had apparently made the clocktower a home.

No one felt the need to stand on ceremony; there was no awkward waiting around.

“I guess I have you to thank,” Laurel said, approaching Nyssa.

“This wasn’t my doing,” Nyssa said. She paused. “I wish you well.”

Nyssa moved towards Sara, but her expression at least was softer. Apparently Laurel was friendlier than other ‘patients’ of the pit. It was a good sign.

Nyssa grasped her hand; encouraged, Sara squeezed back.

Laurel yawned from exhaustion. Her hand was halfway to her mouth when something changed; it was like the air itself had shifted, the space in front of her lips suddenly giving the impression of _force_ as she opened her mouth-

And then there was a shriek, a vaguely visible distortion in the air coming in waves. It took just a second for Laurel to flinch back and close her mouth, but a second was enough for the waves to roll on.

There was the sound of shattering. A few loose shards fell to the floor at the base of the clock-face; mercifully, somehow, the face itself survived even if part of the covering was ruined.

In firm contrast to the shriek, it was followed by a lengthy silence.

“Huh,” Sara said. Her voice was half-impressed; it took a good few seconds before bafflement took over.

As if expecting the loose shards to bite, Laurel gingerly moved forwards. Her eyes were wide, her brow furrowed; she peered at the remains.

Jagged triangles of glass pointed up, and further specks glinted on the floor. It was like someone had taken a hammer to covering.

“Well,” Laurel said, uncertain, “ _That’s_ new.”


End file.
